


Heaven's Gaze

by distantgreen



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6524437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantgreen/pseuds/distantgreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mayuzumi's life is awful in every universe.</p><p>Greek mythology inspired AU, loosely based on the Persephone story. Akashi kidnaps Mayuzumi and drags him to the underworld.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Descent

**Author's Note:**

> 100% [sannlykke](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sannlykke/pseuds/sannlykke)'s fault. I never asked for this (and neither did Mayuzumi).
> 
> I am (purposely) going to be butchering some details of the original myths here and there, probably, whenever it suits me and makes my life easier. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

When he wakes up from his nap, the sun is considerably further overhead than Mayuzumi last remembers. He stretches his long limbs and shifts slightly against the trunk of the large tree that he'd found to use as shade, bordering on the edge of a vast expanse of meadow and sitting just atop a gentle slope that provides him a clean view of the grounds beneath. He'd never wandered quite this far out before, but he was glad to have found the place; it sat in beautiful, deserted silence, only the faint rustle of grass when the breeze would pick up for a few seconds here and there.

 _Too far out from the village_ , his mother would chide him if she knew, _that's why there is no one there, it's not safe_. The rational part of him knows that she's probably right, but he is a grown man, and at the moment he really could care less, reveling in the remoteness rather than worrying about it. There are things he should be doing back at the village, probably, reasons why he should be picking himself up off the ground and calling it quits for the day's excursion, but he can't bring himself to care about any of that at the moment either. The sun is too pleasant, and the grass is too bright green against the sky, and he'd like nothing better than to sit here for the rest of the day and all through the night, soaking in the details of this peaceful new place.

It is a nice thought, and he considers following through with it, really, except that at that moment someone takes it upon themselves to intervene.

He sees the eruption before he hears it. It happens when he blinks, his eyes shutting only for the briefest of moments, and when he opens them the beautiful field that had stretched in front of him is no longer whole, split open instead by a giant wound, rocks and dirt bleeding out against the blue afternoon sky, but the image crawls across his vision like a film running in slow motion. The maw gapes at him, something about it seeming to ooze a sort of paralyzing terror alongside the Earth's bowels that are being flung wildly into the air.

The silence is deafening in that first breath, even the wind seemingly having hushed itself at the terrifying spectacle, and he finds his ears threatening to ring with the oppressiveness of it. He exhales, then, and the noise comes in a rush all at once, as if summoned by a sharp snap of fingers. He had never heard the Earth scream before, but this must be it, he thinks, as a shrill screeching assaults his ears. It sounds like a wounded animal, only of larger proportions than any living creature he's ever seen, and the wind returns with it, its previous calm whispers replaced by a terrible howling.

Mayuzumi finds himself blinking frantically, as if the picture might vanish as quickly as it had come, but it doesn't, nothing changes, the Earth is still screaming at him and he can only lean against the tree and watch. Another blink, and the image transforms suddenly again, field and sky and gash now broken by the figure of a man that's appeared at the nearest edge of the hole, facing Mayuzumi's direction. Mayuzumi can't see details from here, with the distance between them and the fierce wind whipping his hair into his face, but he sees bright red hair that stands out too jarringly against the sky, and a black cloak that billows around the stranger like a cloth torn from the night itself, shielding him from the bright daylight that surrounds him. The figure starts to move, walking towards Mayuzumi, and he loses track of time and distance until eventually the man is standing right in front of him, close enough for Mayuzumi to see the details of his face.

His expression seems so placid, so entirely unaffected by the madness and chaos outlined against the sky behind him, as he gazes down at Mayuzumi, still rooted to his seat at the foot of the tree. There is something strange slithering beneath the surface of his calm expression that moves too subtly and swiftly for Mayuzumi to pinpoint, something hungry and demanding. Their eyes finally meet, and Mayuzumi sees the stranger's for what they are – one as bright red as his hair, the other a golden orange that reminds of fire crackling away in dark places. Mayuzumi's breath seems to stop completely at the sight, the eyes trying to command him in ways unspoken, the rest of the world around them fading away to darkness until only red and orange fill his vision. Some muffled voice in the back of his mind manages to string together the word _heterochromia_ , putting a name to the thing in front of him in some desperate bid to regain control of himself, before everything fails him and he passes out.

–

The next time he wakes, Mayuzumi finds himself in darkness, no sun overhead with which to gauge the time of day. The first thing that occurs to him is that he seems to be in a bed, so for a moment hope springs to life in his sleep-addled brain, that maybe these strange images floating around in his head are just fragments of one very odd and unpleasant dream. He's at home, and he's probably slept in later than he ought to, but at least he can get up and go about his day as usual. But something in his brain is trying to scratch away these thoughts, insisting that no, something is not right after all.

The bedsheets are the next thing he notices as his senses finally start to reach full wakefulness. They're soft, sliding gently against the exposed parts of his skin, and much finer quality than anything he has at home. Alright, so this probably isn't his bed after all, which begs the question of just whose bed it is. He sits up, kicking the covers off into a haphazard pile, and realizes that he's in a giant canopy bed, the curtains drawn tightly around him and blocking his view of the rest of the room. He crawls over to one side and throws them open roughly and is surprised when a cool draft of air hits him in the face.

The room isn't actually all that large, but it carries some inexplicable feeling of vastness with it. There are torches placed along the walls at regular intervals, their erratic flickering the only source of light in the room, and Mayuzumi is suddenly reminded of burning orange eyes watching him out of the dark. He tries to shake the feeling off and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, feet landing lightly on the floor. His sandals have been removed, he sees them lying on the floor near the foot of the bed, and he realizes the floor is bare stone, cold against the bottom of his feet. Looking at the walls, it looks like the room has been carved straight out of rock rather than being built, so Mayuzumi can only conclude that he's somewhere underground.

Great, he thinks, he's been kidnapped and thrown in a cave miles below the surface and he'll probably die here at the hands of the creepy son of a bitch who took him. He rolls his eyes and runs his hands over his face, trying not to picture his mother's knowing _I told you so_. He lets out a quiet groan and is about to stand up and see if he can find some way out of this ridiculous mess when the lone door in the room squeaks open and said creepy son of a bitch strolls into the room.

Mayuzumi stares, and although he's very suspicious that one wrong move or expression might land him into a very unpleasant situation, considering this guy seems to have the ability to cut the Earth open to his will whenever he needs it, he's pretty sure he can't hide the annoyance that lingers on his face. The redhead just smiles at him, stopping a few feet from the bed, and he's wearing the same black cloak as before, but it seems much less out of place here than it did above ground.

“We're glad to see that you're awake.”

Mayuzumi just frowns at that, because he still has no idea what is actually going on, who this person is or where he's been taken. He's also thrown off by this “we,” and wonders if he means it in the sense of royalty; he certainly looks regal enough and carries himself with the appropriate demeanor to be a prince or something. Royalty or not, Mayuzumi is about to open his mouth and demand answers to his long stream of questions, but his captor smiles again and speaks before he has a chance.

“If you'd like a name to call me by, Akashi is fine. If you're wondering where you are, I'm afraid that it's a little more complicated than simply being deep underground.”

That statement can't bode well, and Mayuzumi narrows his eyes suspiciously.

“You are,” the person calling himself Akashi pauses for a moment, eyes glinting brightly in the dark as he takes another step forward, “deep within the land of the dead.”

Mayuzumi's jaw quite literally drops.

Under normal circumstances, he might have thought this Akashi was crazy, but he still remembers quite vividly the events that brought him to this place, so he's really not about to dismiss anything at this point.

“Uh.”

There is some amusement showing in Akashi's eyes now, as he watches Mayuzumi struggle to process the absurd information.

“I am, in some regions, known by the name of Hades, if that helps to give you context.”

Mayuzumi's jaw shuts itself this time, and he closes his eyes against the headache he can feel forming. The emperor of the underworld has kidnapped him and he is, quite literally, stuck in hell at the moment.

“What the hell,” he groans. “I don't even know you, I'm pretty sure I wasn't dead yet, what do you want with me?”

“No,” Akashi shakes his head in response, “you were not dead, and you are not now.” He moves again, closing the rest of the space between them, and he reaches out with one hand, covered in a black glove, to grasp Mayuzumi's chin lightly with his thumb and forefinger. The possession and hunger that Mayuzumi glimpsed once before in his face are back now, and Mayuzumi finds the gaze holding him in place again. “You are beautiful,” he murmurs, and then the hand and the hunger are gone, leaving Mayuzumi feeling strangely deflated. “I have watched you for a long time, Chihiro, and I wanted to bring you here so that I do not have to spend another day without you.”

There's something in the way he says it, some loftiness behind it, like he expects Mayuzumi to be flattered and honored that the king of the underworld found him so beautiful that he literally just picked him up and took him back home.

“You kidnapped me,” Mayuzumi says slowly, looking warily at Akashi and trying to choose his words carefully, “because you liked me so much, you wanted to keep me.” He pauses, raising one hand to rub at his temples. “Hell is stranger than I thought, if this is how wooing works down here.” He looks back up at Akashi and finds him staring down at Mayuzumi, gaze measured and calculating. “I guess it never occurred to you that someone might not actually want this,” Mayuzumi says dryly. “Which I don't, so, we're done here and I'd like to go home now, if you don't mind.”

Akashi cocks his head slightly to the side. “We are not done,” he says decisively, and he's giving Mayuzumi a look that he decides he does not like at all. He turns, then, and heads for the door, calling to Mayuzumi over his shoulder. “These quarters are yours, and you may leave them and go wherever you please, but the dogs have been instructed not to allow you passage outside.”

The dogs.

The door clicks shut, and Mayuzumi can hear his mother's voice again, telling him the stories of Hades and his ferocious three-headed guard dog. So that one is real, too, probably, and Mayuzumi lets out an agitated noise as he falls back against the bed again. Akashi hasn't hurt him, yet, but he still has no interest in staying here any longer if he can help it.

He briefly contemplates the pros and cons of getting torn apart by a vicious mythical beast, before it dawns on him that actually dying would just get him sent right back to the underworld anyway, and he huffs his frustration out against one very luxurious pillow.

“Fuck this.”


	2. Silence Where the Water Flows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am tired and this is not beta'ed so I hope it's coherent sorry.

Mayuzumi lays on the bed for a little while longer, staring at the canopy overhead with irritation and trying to figure out what horrible decision he had made in his life to anger the gods and warrant such terrible treatment in response. He'd never been particularly devoted to them (or to anything, really, for that matter), but he'd hoped that keeping out of other people's way for the most part qualified as its own kind of goodness. It probably didn't matter anyway, because this Akashi seemed like the type to do whatever he wanted with no regard for anyone else's opinion, and that's why Mayuzumi was now his unwilling prisoner.

 _Beautiful_ , Akashi had called him. That part confuses Mayuzumi even more so than questioning his own righteousness. He wasn't hideous by any means, but he'd never considered himself stunningly good-looking. The girls in the village had never paid him much attention, although if he has to be fair, he probably never gave them any indication of being even remotely interested in anything other than wandering around alone and burying his face in some cheesy book. Even if they were trying to send him any signals, he probably wouldn't have noticed.

He heaves a sigh and crawls his way out of the bed, looking around the room again. There's a mirror hanging on one wall and he catches his reflection in it. His silver hair is long, getting a bit too much in his face now, and were he still home, he'd probably think about getting it cut soon. He smiles wryly at the thought of finding out what a haircut in hell is like, and decides to leave it be for now. The paleness of his skin is obvious even in the dim light here, and he supposes that could be an attractive quality for some, but he still can't see anything that he'd consider worthy of kidnapping. Either this Akashi has some very particular tastes, or Mayuzumi is really missing something.

Staring at his own reflection has never been much of a hobby, so Mayuzumi quickly drops his train of thought and decides that if he's going to be stuck here for the time being he might as well wander around and see what there is to see. If the guard dogs have been warned to keep him here, then escape is probably unlikely, but he is a bit curious and checking what's around is better than being stuck in a room with literally nothing to do, so he slips his sandals back on and heads out the door.

He shuts it carefully behind him, glancing around what appears to be a narrow hallway stretching into the distance in two different directions. Either way, he has no idea where he's going, so he picks one at random and heads off, the eerie silence broken only by his quiet footfalls against the floor. It's only after about a minute of walking when it suddenly dawns on him that the fact that he hasn't had any trouble seeing should be a little bit surprising, considering there are no torches or any other sources of light placed along the hallway. Blinking, he looks around again, and finally notices the faint greenish tint that permeates the air in the hallway, and it's after a bit more confused scouting that he realizes the walls themselves seem to be giving off the faintest of glows. It feels almost like being underwater, he thinks, but he doesn't get much longer to admire it because he finds the hallway ending abruptly.

He's at the top of what appears to be a curved staircase, its stones glowing in the same odd fashion as the walls in the hallway. The hall ends in an opening cut into the face of a rocky wall that stretches off to his left and right, leaving only the stairs descending downward into some giant cavernous space whose boundaries he can't see in any direction. He has no idea how far down the stairs go, nor what might lie in what for him below, thanks to a thick fog that begins a few meters down from where he currently stands. There is still no sound to be heard from anywhere aside from the rustle of his own movements, and under less unpleasant circumstances not laced with irritation, he might have found the odd solitude somewhat endearing. Disconcerting as it is, he still has nowhere better to be, so he heads off down the staircase and hopes for the best.

It takes less time than he expects to reach the bottom, and he takes a moment to glance back up at where he came, but he sees only the thick fog above him, hiding even the glow of the stairs down which he'd come. The ground beneath his feet here is nothing but dirt, but even so it still seems to give off a subtle light, just enough for him to not feel completely overwhelmed by darkness as he moves forward. He loses sight of the staircase quickly enough, and everything around him becomes an indistinguishable mass of dim luminescence and fog. There was no need for Akashi to warn the dogs or anyone else for that matter, Mayuzumi thinks, because he has absolutely no idea where he's going or how he might get out of this place even if there was no one to stop him. But he carries on walking, alone in the silence, letting his mind wander to thoughts of home and how much he'd like to get back there, even if he does have to listen to his mother's tirade in exchange.

He's so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn't even realize his footsteps aren't the only sound he can hear anymore until one of his feet lands in water with a sudden splash. He stops, startled, and looks around to find that the fog has thinned significantly and he can actually discern that he's standing at the edge of a river, stretching into the distance to either side of him, its far bank invisible in the darkness. The water laps gently but audibly around his feet, and he's suddenly struck with the urge to throw off his clothes and dive into it, swimming across for the other side as if freedom might be found there. But his breath seems caught in his throat, and he just stares helplessly into the darkness, frozen in place.

A crunch echoes loudly out of the darkness to his left, breaking his reverie, and he whips his head around sharply to see its source. The fog might be thinner, but he still can't see anything moving through it.

Another crunch, louder this time, probably closer. Mayuzumi's eyes widen and he carefully takes a few steps backwards, clearing his feet of the water and trying to stand as still as humanly possible.

He sees a dark form, finally, cutting its way through the mist until it takes full shape in his view. It's a dog, and the first thing Mayuzumi thinks is that it's huge, its back coming all the way to his chest. The next thing he notices is that it does, in fact, have three heads, and their six red eyes are all staring at him with varying degrees of interest.

There's a crunch again, and Mayuzumi realizes that the head on his left is holding a large bone in its mouth, which is rapidly turning into a mess of shattered bone fragments as the dog chews on it, all the while keeping its gaze calmly trained on Mayuzumi. The middle head is studying Mayuzumi carefully, as if it can't quite decide what should be done with him, and for a moment Mayuzumi wonders if he might actually survive this. It's just then, however, that the third head on his right decides to move, making a sudden lunge in his direction, and he's pretty sure he's about to get devoured after all, so he closes his eyes and braces himself for the worst.

The bite he expects never comes, and there's a yelp instead. Confused, he opens his eyes and is met with the sight of the middle head looking irritated and biting the back of the neck on the right head, which is still looking expectantly in Mayuzumi's direction, its tongue hanging slightly out of its mouth. And then it dawns on Mayuzumi that its expression isn't hungry, it's playful, and he has a sneaking suspicion that if Middle Head (because really, he doesn't know how else to mentally label them) weren't holding onto Right Head with such a strong grip, he'd be getting licked all over his face right now.

Right Head finally seems to give up, looking down at the ground in resignation, and Middle Head releases its grip and turns back to its study of Mayuzumi. Left Head is still crunching happily on what's left of its bone, but no one seems to be making any move to eat him instead, so he wonders if maybe so long as he stays out of the river, that is in all likelihood his only course to freedom, maybe he won't get torn to pieces after all. He takes a few steps to the side, aiming to circumvent the dog and head off in a direction away from the river, and the heads make no move to intercept him. Right Head is still staring at him with a bit of a sad puppy face that he thinks is pretty damn inappropriate for a guard dog of hell, but it's still better than having his limbs torn off, so he thinks he can forgive the poor thing for not living up to his expectations of ferocity and sinisterness.

He's barely made it a few steps before there's a sudden, loud bark behind him, freezing him in his tracks.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” he says audibly, exasperated. “I'm not even trying to leave, I just-” The rest of his tirade is lost in his throat as a form materializes from the mist in front of him. It's Akashi, but it takes his brain a few moments to catch up to this fact, because it's too busy being distracted by the bright glow of his eyes breaking through the darkness, the way the fog swirls in light tendrils as it splits around his black cloak, his sharp facial features accentuated in the dim green light. It's breathtaking, the way he solidifies, seeming to take shape out of the mist itself, and Mayuzumi can't help but stare.

It's just then that a huge black mass bolts past him on his right, and it's a good thing, Mayuzumi thinks, because otherwise he doesn't know how much longer he might have stood there like an idiot. The monstrosity of a dog stops in front of Akashi, tail wagging happily, and Mayuzumi watches with some mixture of amusement and horror as the heads try to assault their master in a rather intimidating display of affection. Middle Head is leaning down, nuzzling against the side of Akashi's neck, though with impressively little force, so as to not knock him over, while Akashi reaches up with both hands to pet Left and Right on either side of him. It's fucking weird, Mayuzumi thinks, but also endearing, and at least it means Akashi must treat his dog with a decent amount of kindness for it to show him this much devotion in return, so that's something at the least.

Seemingly sated for now, both the dog and Akashi turn back to face Mayuzumi.

“Chihiro,” Akashi says with a small smile. “I see you've found the dogs.”

“Yeah,” Mayuzumi says, staring skeptically at the beast again, which trots back over to him, all three heads sniffing him intently. He closes his eyes and holds his breath, suddenly surrounded by the unmistakable smell of dog combined with something else that he doesn't know how to name, something that evokes a feeling of falling into a vast void without end. The sniffing stops after a few seconds and the heads seem to retreat, and he's just about to open his eyes again when suddenly a huge tongue runs itself across his face.

“Ugh!”

He stumbles backwards, wiping furiously at his face, and looks up to see that Akashi is actually _laughing_ , the little shit, while Right Head stares at Mayuzumi with enthusiasm sparkling brightly in its red demon eyes. Middle Head looks mildly annoyed but resigned, like it's given up on restraining anyone at this point, while Left Head manages to look slightly amused as it chews on some giant new bone (and Mayuzumi tries very pointedly to not worry about where these things keep coming from).

“They like you, Chihiro,” Akashi says, his laughter finally stopped but amusement still dancing on his face. Mayuzumi makes his best disgruntled face at Akashi, who has stepped up next to the dog and is patting it gently on the back, eyeing Mayuzumi carefully as he does it.

“Are you hungry?” he asks suddenly. “You haven't eaten since you've arrived.”  
  
Mayuzumi blinks and tries to process the question. He redirects his attention to his stomach and realizes that yes, he is actually quite hungry, and now that he thinks about it, he's lost all sense of time down here and has no idea how long it's been since that sunlit afternoon which already feels like a lifetime ago.

“Yeah,” he blurts before he can help himself. Akashi merely nods in understanding and gives the dog one last pet before stepping away from it.

“Then there will be food waiting for you in your room. Can you get back on your own?”

There's a moment's hesitation as Mayuzumi looks at his surroundings, everything green and mist and he's pretty sure he couldn't navigate back to anywhere right now without starving to death, but he really doesn't want to admit that to Akashi.

He doesn't need to, of course, because Akashi is already next to him and casually looping one of his black-sleeved arms through Mayuzumi's and heading off purposefully in a direction which is definitely not the one Mayuzumi would have picked. If it weren't for that fact, he'd be protesting being led along like this like some dainty maiden, but he's fairly certain that it's either this or being left alone with a three-headed dog and no food, so he just frowns weakly and keeps his mouth shut.

They walk in silence for a while, Mayuzumi occasionally casting sidelong glances at Akashi's profile. His face looks so young, Mayuzumi notes, in spite of the centuries he must carry with him, and Mayuzumi wonders if all gods have this eternal youth about them. But his eyes, or at least the one red one that Mayuzumi can see from this angle, seem to hold something far more ancient behind them, and for a brief moment Mayuzumi thinks that it must be exhausting, living down here and dealing with the dead and their baggage for all eternity.

Soon enough they reach the foot of the stairs down which Mayuzumi had come, and Akashi stops and releases him.

“I would join you,” he says, adjusting the long sleeves of his tunic, “but I've still business to attend to, so I regret that you'll be alone.”

Mayuzumi just nods, not really having any idea what he wants to say to that at the moment, and heads up the staircase, not bothering to look back to see if Akashi is still watching him. When he gets back to his room, there is food waiting on a table as promised, and Mayuzumi is pleasantly surprised to see that it looks familiar. The fruit is of a variety that grows near his home, and the main dish that's waiting is a local recipe that he didn't think was widely known elsewhere. He doesn't know what sort of magic (or other more questionable dealings) Akashi had to use to procure it, but he's hit with a sudden spike of gratitude at the effort.

So he eats and finds himself feeling far more relaxed and sated afterwards than he has since this entire fiasco started. He's probably even calm enough to sleep properly, he thinks, so he throws off his sandals again and flings himself into the bed. His current state is not happy by any means, but at least now he's calm and collected enough that he feels like maybe there is a chance he can work his way out of this after all. He makes his way over to a pillow with a lot less resentment than the last time he was in this position, and before he has a chance to think any further, he's asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might as well just rename this fic "Mayuzumi wanders around the underworld and bumps into random shit" because that's probably going to be happening for a while... Also this whole thing is looking like it's going to draw out longer than I initially thought it would so we'll see how that goes. Anyway, many thanks and love to all of you wonderful people who are actually reading along, without you I am just some weirdo vomiting words all over their keyboard!
> 
> P.S. Bonus points if you've figured out Cerberus.


	3. And Where Our Actions Blur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so so so sorry for not updating this in so long, I stg it’s all outlined and it will get finished but I just got super busy irl and had to drop writing in the meantime, but I’m back ok I’ll try really hard, pls forgive me
> 
> "but Green where did the plot go" lmao what plot, have some basketball idiots dicking around in the underworld instead :')

Mayuzumi wakes up after some indeterminable amount of time and is, disappointingly enough, still in the same bed instead of magically back home like he hoped he might be. He claws his hands across his face, rolls back and forth once in irritation, and finally concludes that, once again, he has nothing better to do than get up and keep searching the place for something worthwhile.  
  
He seems to have acquired some vague sense of direction after his last wanderings, because he makes his way down to the river in almost no time at all, a three-headed dog materializing out of the mist before he realizes how far he’s walked. The three heads all turn to him at the same time, and he’s about to brace himself for another licking, but their gazes pass over him for only a brief moment before turning back to stare attentively out across the river again. Something else in the darkness seems to have their interest, and curiosity gets the better of him, so he approaches as close as he dares get to the beast and settles in to see what’s happening.  
  
For a long time, there’s nothing, just the gentle lap of water against the shore, but after a few minutes of waiting Mayuzumi’s feeble human ears finally manage to make out the noise to which the dogs had already been alerted. It’s a different sound in the water, like something moving through it, and he realizes that the faint green glow that pervades the air is slightly different in front of him, slightly more focused, like something is coming from a compact, concrete object instead of the surroundings themselves. It glows brighter as it approaches, until finally he can see what it is that’s moving towards them. It’s a small boat with a green lantern hanging from its prow and one tall, cloaked figure at its front, paddling it slowly through the water, while another shape sits slumped behind it. The dogs haven’t moved in the slightest, and they keep watching closely as the boat lands against the shore, the cloaked figure raising its face to look at them and lifting a hand in greeting.  
  
“Hey boys,” the stranger says, voice cutting through the quiet. The monstrous black tail wags in response, and the figure reaches up with both hands, sweeping the large hood off of his head as he turns, revealing a mess of black hair and sharp eyes that narrow as they land on Mayuzumi. “And you must be our guest.”  
  
“Is that what they call me?” Mayuzumi asks with a snort, because it looks like the rest of hell is clearly better acquainted with him than he is with them. “And what is it to you?”  
  
The black-haired stranger laughs, stepping off the boat to run a hand over the guard dog’s smooth black fur.  
  
“Not my business,” he says with a grin. “I just bring the dead across. You’re not dead, nor are you to be crossing anywhere, according to Akashi.”  
  
Mayuzumi’s only response is an irritated “tch,” because apparently he won’t be finding any sympathy anywhere down here.  
  
“I’m Nijimura,” the stranger finally offers. “Ah, Hayama, no,” he says sternly, shoving one of the dog heads away as it leans in dangerously close to his face, tongue lolling happily.  
  
“Hayama?” Mayuzumi says blankly. “Is that its name?”  
  
“One of them,” Nijimura says, the head staring at him in disappointment. “Nebuya, Mibuchi, Hayama,” he adds, pointing to each head in turn from left to right.  
  
“Huh,” Mayuzumi says, and Hayama greets him back with some sort of weird attempt at a grin.  
  
Nijimura turns back towards the boat, calling out to the other figure still hunched over and waiting in it.  
  
“Well, come on. I don’t have all day, more souls to ferry and all that.”  
  
For a moment Mayuzumi thinks the person didn’t hear, or doesn’t plan on moving, but finally they stand with a grunt and move closer to the lantern. It’s a young man, his skin dark in comparison to the paleness that Mayuzumi is used to with himself, with short hair that’s a strange dark blue color like nothing Mayuzumi’s ever seen before. His face is set into a scowl, and his eyes flash with anger in the darkness.  
  
“This is stupid,” he mutters, carefully stepping off of the boat and onto the shore. “I shouldn’t have to be here.”  
  
Nijimura rolls his eyes, giving the stranger a small but forceful shove away from the river.  
  
“Never heard that one before. Save it for Akashi.”  
  
The blue-haired boy glares over his shoulder at the ferryman, who’s already climbing back into his boat and pushing off to head back across the river. Mayuzumi watches as he fades back into the mist, the green glow of his lantern eventually being swallowed into the fog. The new youth is watching Mayuzumi suspiciously.  
  
“Guest, huh?” he says finally. “What’s your deal? Not dead yet?”  
  
“Not yet,” Mayuzumi mutters. “Just kidnapped.”  
  
“Hah!” the stranger barks out a laugh. “Are you fucking serious? That sucks.”  
  
“Why yes,” Mayuzumi says, irritated at the obvious remark. “Yes, it’s pretty fucking awful, thank you.”  
  
The other guy just keeps looking amusedly at him, either oblivious to his frustration or purposely ignoring it, and Mayuzumi isn’t sure which option is more annoying. He’s run out of patience either way, he decides, so he turns abruptly and starts walking away from the river and into the gloom.  
  
“Oi, wait!” a voice calls behind him, and the stranger is trotting to catch up with him. “I mean, it sucks, but I feel you, I don’t want to be here either, and it’s not really my fault.”  
  
“Yeah?” Mayuzumi says with pretty much no interest whatsoever, because he can believe that Nijimura guy when he says he hears that one all the time.  
  
“Yes!” the youth says insistently. “What’s your name, by the way? I’m Aomine.”  
  
“Mayuzumi,” he offers with a sigh, because it doesn’t look like the guy is going to leave him alone anytime soon. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve any of this, at this point.  
  
“Well, Mayuzumi, this whole thing is _so_ fucked up.”  
  
“Mmm, tell me about it,” Mayuzumi mutters, and the sarcasm is again either lost or ignored, because Aomine carries on passionately.  
  
“So, I was out in the woods right, out for a hunt like I usually do every week. And I killed this giant fucking deer this time, really you should have seen the thing,” – he waves his arms around, trying to convey the size to Mayuzumi – “and I’m carrying it back home when this girl shows up to meet me halfway.”  
  
Mayuzumi has no idea where he’s going as they walk, he’s just trying to keep moving, and after a while he notices the scenery is shifting slightly. The fog is thinning out, revealing more landscape around them, but it seems to be mostly barren, rocky plains, with low, gentle slopes breaking the flatness in places.  
  
“So this girl, she stops me right, and I already know where this is going because I mean, look at me. Girls and guys line up to confess to me all the time, how could they not?”  
  
Mayuzumi’s got nothing to say to this, because while the stranger is admittedly pretty good-looking, he has never in his life actually heard any man praise himself out loud so shamelessly.  
  
“They’re all pretty pathetic, of course, none of them could ever be as awesome as me, so I tell her as much, like I tell all of them, and she’s all running off in tears and I’m ready to head back home when this other guy shows up out of nowhere.”  
  
For the first time since leaving the river, Mayuzumi notices that he can now see shapes in the distance, slouched over the plains in various ways. It takes him a few moments to realize that they’re people, and they must be the dead, he thinks. Most of them aren’t doing much, just sitting around without moving, and it looks pretty damn boring, if you ask him.  
  
“So this guy, I assume he’s just here to confess right. And damn, two in the same day? Even for me, that doesn’t happen too often.” Aomine’s clearly trying to sound annoyed as he says it, but the smugness in his face is just so appallingly obvious that Mayuzumi has to roll his eyes and mouth “wow” into the darkness.  
  
“Anyway, I’m expecting the usual, but he just stares at me with these squinty eyes, so finally I ask if he plans to confess, so that we can get on with it already. And you know what he does? He _laughs_. He laughs and says ‘no, I’m afraid I’m a bit disappointed, you won’t do at all.’ Are you kidding me??”  
  
“Gods above, who would say such a thing,” Mayuzumi deadpans, and Aomine waves his hands enthusiastically.  
  
“Right?? So there’s no way I can put up with that, I drop the deer and run off after him into the woods, bastard’s just running off laughing in front of me. We go at it for a while and suddenly the laughing just stops, out of the blue, and I realize I’m in this clearing. And I look down at my feet, and there’s...” Aomine’s voice trails off, and Mayuzumi stares at his face, which has taken on a distant, wistful expression.  
  
“There’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my entire life, staring right back at me.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” Aomine says. “Perfect. The dumb idiot seemed to have gotten himself trapped inside this pond, just staring up at me like a dumbass, but gods, he was gorgeous.”  
  
Mayuzumi stops walking.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Crazy, right?” Aomine demands. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, and before I knew it, I’d been sitting there for gods know how long, days I guess, and...” His voice dies off again, and he shifts awkwardly on his feet. “I stayed there long enough without doing anything that I just… died, I guess? Next thing I knew this ferryman was showing up and hauling me off into his boat.”  
  
Mayuzumi is still not moving, just staring straight at Aomine, no hint of emotion on his face.  
  
Aomine sighs. “Yeah, so, that’s how it went. Totally not my fault, so they really should be letting me out of here any time now.”  
  
Mayuzumi’s face finally moves again, one eyebrow lifting slightly, before he bursts into laughter, doubling over in front of Aomine.  
  
“You,” he says in between gasping for air, “are the single dumbest person I have ever met.”  
  
Aomine’s mouth falls open, and his eyebrows knit together, suspicion and anger taking over his face. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”  
  
“That was your _reflection_ , you idiot!” Mayuzumi cackles. “How do you even… how did you survive as long as you did??”  
  
It takes a few more moments, but slowly, the understanding creeps across Aomine’s face and his mouth shifts into an “o,” before he regains his composure and clenches his fists, glaring at Mayuzumi.  
  
“Shut up! It’s not funny!”  
  
“Oh, no,” Mayuzumi says, the laughter having subsided enough that he can stop and wipe the tears from his eyes. “It is pretty fucking hilarious, is what it is.”  
  
Aomine bares his teeth at him. “Fuck you,” he snaps. “You know what, I’m gonna go get my ass out of here on my own.” He turns away from Mayuzumi, heading off quickly into the eerie plains surrounding them, and hollering over his shoulder. “I hope you’re stuck here forever, asshole!”  
  
Mayuzumi rolls his eyes again as the other boy is swallowed by the mist, and gives another small chuckle as he thinks of the story. Utterly ridiculous.  
  
He shakes his head at the thought, his laughing fit finally done, and with Aomine’s voice gone as well, he realizes that he can make out another noise in the murky darkness. It sounds a lot like someone grunting with exertion, and it doesn’t take much to spot the source, a little ways out to his left. It looks like someone pushing a giant boulder, at least twice the man’s weight, up a steep hill, muscles straining with the effort. Mayuzumi gets a little closer, within shouting range now, but decides to watch for a few minutes in order to figure out what exactly is going on.  
  
The hill really isn’t that tall, maybe three or four times the man’s height, but the slope is pretty extreme, and pushing that giant rock up looks pretty awful in Mayuzumi’s opinion. The man is about halfway done, and as Mayuzumi stands and watches, he eventually manages to make it to the top.  
  
Show’s over, Mayuzumi thinks, and he’s about to leave when the man steps aside, leaning over to place his arms against his legs and breathe heavily. Of course, this leaves the boulder unsupported, but before Mayuzumi can think to yell out any sort of warning, it’s rolling (a bit faster than it should, but maybe he’s been down here so long he’s forgotten how these things work) straight back down to the bottom, where it stops (again, surprisingly abruptly compared to what Mayuzumi is expecting).  
  
As Mayuzumi is standing there thinking about how very unreasonable this all seems, the stranger stretches once, then heads straight back down the hill to the bottom. When he reaches the boulder, he braces himself behind it and begins pushing it back up the slope again.  
  
“Whoa,” Mayuzumi says, because honestly, he’s had enough of people being complete idiots today. “What are you doing? It’s obviously just going to fall back down again.”  
  
The stranger stops in his tracks and turns to look over his shoulder, surprise clearly written on his features. Maybe the dead don’t interact with each other so much down here, Mayuzumi thinks, because the guy looks pretty confused that someone is actually addressing him.  
  
“Excuse me?” he says finally, letting go of the boulder and turning to face Mayuzumi.  
  
“Uh,” Mayuzumi says eloquently. “It just,” he pauses, trying to comprehend how this could possibly be something he actually has to explain to someone. “This seems like a really stupid waste of time, you know?”  
  
The stranger narrows his eyes, a little suspicious now, and Mayuzumi decides that okay, no, he really can’t deal with any more of this today.  
  
“Never mind,” he snaps, and turns away to leave, not bothering to look back and find out if the guy is still staring at him in confusion or pushing that damn boulder up the hill again. His instincts seem to be doing much better today, because he’s pretty sure he actually knows which way to go to get back to the river, so he takes off without a second thought, not sparing glances at the shadows he passes to see what kinds of idiocy they’re using to occupying themselves.  
  
It takes some time, and just as he’s beginning to fear that he got it wrong after all, he hears the sounds of water in the dark, and he hurries forward to stick his sandaled feet into the waves. He hopes the dogs don’t mistake it as an escape attempt, because he really just wants to feel the coolness against his skin and nothing more. He still can’t quite wrap his head around how things work down here, and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and frowning in frustration.  
  
He opens his eyes again a moment later and really shouldn’t be surprised to find that there’s another body standing next to him, mis-matched eyes staring up into his face.  
  
“AUGH.”  
  
He jumps a good foot into the air, not just at his surprise to see Akashi, but because the expression on the god’s face is something new and not particularly welcoming, if he has to be honest.  
  
“Chihiro,” Akashi says, surprisingly stern. “What do you think you’re doing?”  
  
“Definitely not running,” Mayuzumi says hastily. “I am standing here enjoying the feel of water against my feet like a normal human being because I am beginning to forget what that is like.”  
  
Akashi frowns. “Not that,” he adds. “What are you doing undermining my authority among the dead?”  
  
“Undermining… what?” Mayuzumi blinks, surprised. “What are you talking about?”  
  
Akashi sighs, and speaks slowly, as if explaining something to a particularly difficult child. “One of them seems to have taken it upon himself to ignore his divine punishment, claiming that it is a, how did he put it… stupid waste of time?”  
  
_Oh_. That’s what he means, and yeah, Mayuzumi might be responsible for that one, but he’s not about to apologize.  
  
“But it is,” Mayuzumi says firmly. “It looks really difficult and awful and I certainly wouldn’t want to be doing that for all eternity.”  
  
Akashi just stares.  
  
“That is sort of the point, Chihiro. You find my punishments unreasonable?”  
  
“I find a lot of things about you unreasonable,” Mayuzumi mutters.  
  
There’s a low chuckle, and Akashi’s face relaxes slightly. “Yes, you certainly do.” He runs a hand through his hair, and without warning, he does the thing again where he slides one elegantly clad arm through Mayuzumi’s. “Never mind. You must be starved, you made it quite far out into the Fields today, it seems.”  
  
“I can make it back on my own,” Mayuzumi says, though he doesn’t dare move to extract his arm.  
  
“I know,” Akashi says, “but I have time to spare, so you will dine with me this time.”  
  
Mayuzumi doesn’t think arguing will have any effect at this point, so he doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really needed Narcissus!Aomine in my life ok *sob*  
> *rolls face across keyboard*


	4. The Monster I Have Been

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyooo added tags for ImaAo because I'm ImaAo trash and it's a thing now sorry ~~not sorry~~ , but they'll be outta here soon enough so if you don't like it you won't have to suffer for very long

Dinner had been surprisingly uneventful and almost normal, if Mayuzumi had to be honest. They ate in a spacious hall with an extravagantly set table, featuring a combination of his local dishes that he recognized, and others that he assumed were from areas he had never visited. They ate mostly in silence, with Akashi occasionally asking questions about his life in the village, which Mayuzumi found himself answering against his better judgment. Akashi’s curiosity seemed strangely genuine, and at some point partway through their conversation it suddenly dawned on Mayuzumi that the god of the underworld probably did not have a lot of opportunities to travel around the world above. The dead spirits that came down here were also probably too depressed and too terrified of him to sit down for dinner and casual conversation.  
  
“Perhaps you would like to join me tomorrow,” Akashi had said, setting down his fork after finishing a slice of lavish apple pie for dessert. “I have to attend to my usual matters, but if you would like to observe, you are welcome to do so.”  
  
Mayuzumi had just shrugged without any verbal acknowledgement, and that had been sufficient for Akashi.  
  
“Come to the throne room whenever you please. It's the opposite way out of your room from the river.”  
  
–  
  
Mayuzumi finds the throne room with ease, just as Akashi described it. He walks into a dim, cavernous room and discovers that there are, surprisingly, torches here, scattered about in tall stands, but the space is so vast that they do little to illuminate its corners. A narrow strip of obsidian colored stone leads a path across the room to the far end where Akashi sits, waiting for him. Mayuzumi thinks the distance across the room from the entrance is unnecessarily long and probably quite unnerving for any dead souls who pass this way, but he’s no longer surprised that Akashi would do such a thing.  
  
As he approaches, he sees that the throne is a very simple piece, and Akashi sprawls across it, covered in long, flowing black robes.  
  
Unsure of what kind of greeting would be appropriate, Mayuzumi just slows to a stop and scans his gaze around the room. Akashi stares at him and says nothing, and he’s about to give up on the whole entire thing and retreat back into his own room when he suddenly hears the sound of footsteps coming up behind him.  
  
Turning and not really knowing what to expect, he’s a little surprised to see a young girl running at them, her long hair streaming out behind her and tears streaking across her face. She is rather pretty, Mayuzumi notes, and she stops in front of Akashi’s throne, scowling at him through her tears.  
  
“He was not successful?”  
  
She cringes at the last word in Akashi’s question, balling her hands up into fists.  
  
“We were almost there,” she says, voice trembling a little. “We were almost there, he just… he wanted to see, to make sure.” She runs a hand across her face, wiping away some of the wetness.  
  
“That is too bad,” Akashi says, but his tone carries no sympathies, and the poor girl just glares miserably at him one last time before spinning on her heel and leaving. She mutters something under her breath as she passes by Mayuzumi, although he can’t quite make out the words.  
  
“What was that about?” he asks, turning around to face Akashi. “I can’t imagine what you did to make a girl cry like that.”  
  
“Her lover came to rescue her. He felt that she had been taken from him to soon, so he worked his way down here to demand an audience with me and ask for her return. I gave him a condition, but it seems he failed to meet it, so she will remain here after all.”  
  
Mayuzumi raises one eyebrow suspiciously.  
  
“What sort of condition?”  
  
Akashi stares down at his lap and adjusts the folds of his robe before continuing.  
  
“He was to climb his way back to the overworld, with her following behind, but at no point was he to look back and check on her. It required trusting that she was still there as she should be. If he failed to maintain this condition and looked back at her even once, she would return here immediately and never leave again.”  
  
“Wow,” Mayuzumi says. “You certainly are creative with your cruelty.”  
  
He doesn't expect Akashi to turn around and stare at him like that, sharp and piercing.  
  
“Oh? You think it unfair of me? Tell me, Chihiro, how much experience do you have with administering due punishment to the dead? Do you think keeping order here is a trivial affair?”  
  
“It just seems like you're being a little excessive,” Mayuzumi mutters, turning his eyes away.  
  
Akashi thinks on this a little longer, then extends a hand toward Mayuzumi, palm up.  
  
“Very well. You do it.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Come here, and sit in my place. If you think I'm doing such a poor job, show me how it should be done, hm? The next case to come down this hall is yours to handle as you see fit.”  
  
This is probably a terrible idea, Mayuzumi thinks immediately, but the challenge has been issued and he can't find it in himself to back down.  
  
“Okay,” he says, stepping hesitantly towards the throne. Akashi rises, black velvet cascading around him, and moves to stand behind the seat so that Mayuzumi can take his place.  
  
It's just stone, Mayuzumi realizes, as he gets closer and takes his seat, but it's not as uncomfortable as he's expecting. Akashi doesn’t say anything more, seemingly content with standing behind him like some sort of overseer.  
  
Mayuzumi is considering asking how exactly this works, if someone else will be coming to see them shortly or he somehow has to summon their next visitor, when he hears footsteps and a new guest enters from the far end of the room. He doesn’t even pause at the entrance, just continues straight for the throne, and Mayuzumi wonders if maybe he’s been here before, because he doesn’t seem intimidated by the space at all.  
  
The stranger finally comes to a stop in front of them, his eyes tightly shut behind long, black bangs, and his lips start to curve into a faint smile.  
  
“Nemesis,” Akashi says, face unreadable, before their guest can speak.  
  
The stranger’s expression tightens slightly.  
  
“Please, there is no need for such formalities here. Imayoshi is more than sufficient.” There's something in his tone that crawls under Mayuzumi’s skin a little, and with the way Akashi is addressing him, he wonders if he might be a god as well. “Although I am surprised to see someone besides you sitting here. Is this the new pet that I’ve been hearing about?”  
  
Mayuzumi is about to open his mouth and object to being referred to as a “pet,” but Akashi quickly cuts him off.  
  
“He is a respected guest,” he says icily, “and he is presently handling our affairs, so by all means, feel free to plead your case with him.”  
  
“Oh?” Imayoshi’s grin widens, showing teeth. He seems to consider something, then shrugs and continues. “In that case, perhaps I shall. I suspect he may have caused you a bit of trouble already, but did a certain blue-haired idiot come this way recently?”  
  
Mayuzumi straightens up a bit in his seat.  
  
_Squinty eyes._  
  
Imayoshi hums happily at the reaction. “I shall take that as a yes. Truth be told, I was just looking to have a bit of fun, and I didn't think the boy was fool enough to end up the way he did. Unfortunately it seems I underestimated him.”  
  
“It is impressive,” Mayuzumi snorts, and he places an elbow against one of the chair’s arms, propping his chin on his fist. “What is it that you want me to do with him?” he asks, a little skeptical.  
  
“Ah, well,” Imayoshi hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “Seeing as how I am partly responsible for the situation, I thought I might help him out and return him to the overworld.” He pauses, eyes opening a fraction, and Mayuzumi marvels at the expression, wondering how someone can look both so terrifying and morbidly fascinating in the same breath. “Of course, he would have to remain in my care in exchange for this little… favor, on my part.”  
  
“Kidnapping,” Mayuzumi blurts. “Do all of you seriously make this much of a hobby out of kidnapping?”  
  
“It's not kidnapping,” Imayoshi insists. “He would only come if he agrees to it, of course.”  
  
“No.”  
  
Mayuzumi turns a little in his seat, surprised to see Akashi speaking up again.  
  
“Excuse me,” he hisses, tilting his head upwards. “I believe this one is mine.”  
  
“I can't allow souls to leave the underworld so easily,” Akashi insists, but Mayuzumi shakes his head.  
  
“You put me in charge,” he reminds Akashi, “and you’re going to see this through, like it or not. Bring him here.”  
  
Akashi turns his own head to look down at him, eyes blazing too brightly in the darkness, and they remain like this for several moments, their gazes locked. A green field flashes through Mayuzumi’s mind, rocks jutting out against an apathetic sky, and he’s beginning to feel like he’ll forget how to breathe soon when Akashi finally blinks and looks away.  
  
“Very well.”  
  
He raises one hand, covered in a black glove as usual, and snaps his fingers against the darkness. Nothing happens at first, and then suddenly Mayuzumi feels it; a cold draft of air sweeps through the room, ruffling the hair around his face. Sure enough, just as soon as the burst of wind settles down, Aomine appears at the door, walking slowly into the room and looking a little disoriented. He blinks a few times and walks forward cautiously, until he spots the figures waiting for him at the other end of the room.  
  
“Hurry up,” Mayuzumi calls out, and Aomine snaps to attention when he recognizes the voice.  
  
“Hey!” he says, trotting up to the throne. “What are-”  
  
It’s then that he spots Imayoshi, who is standing a little ways to the side, smiling pleasantly at him, and his expression immediately changes to something accusatory.  
  
“You!”  
  
“Hello,” Imayoshi says, smile never faltering.  
  
“What is he doing here?” Aomine demands, turning back to Mayuzumi. “Did he explain to you what an ass he was? Do you understand now, how awful and unfair this is?”  
  
“Gods above,” Mayuzumi whispers quietly against his hand. “I can’t.” He mouths “just take him” to Imayoshi, then turns back to the still fuming Aomine. “Look,” he says, sighing and running his hand through his hair. “You want to get out of here, right?”  
  
Aomine’s eyes brighten at the question. “ _Yes_.”  
  
“Well, you can go.” Aomine looks even more thrilled at that, bordering on victorious now, but Mayuzumi continues. “But, only if you go with… him.” He points to Imayoshi as he says it, and Aomine freezes.  
  
“What?”  
  
“He said he’ll take you with him, and you can return to the surface, but you have to stay with him as a… show of gratitude, or whatever.”  
  
“ _Gratitude_?” Aomine yelps. “It’s his fault I’m down here!”  
  
“No, pretty sure that one’s still on you,” Mayuzumi mumbles. “Look, it’s the only offer you’re getting, take it or leave it. There is no other reason why I should let you go.”  
  
“Who even put you in charge?” Aomine glares at Mayuzumi, sputtering. “And seriously?! You, of all people, are going along with this? Like you don’t know what it’s like to be kept as someone’s pet!”  
  
Mayuzumi just shrugs. “Owner feeds me pretty well, even lets me leave my room,” he says, voice flat. “Maybe you’ll get lucky, too.” He makes the mistake of glancing up at Akashi and sees that he looks unnervingly pleased at that statement. “That isn’t a compliment!” Mayuzumi adds, exasperated.  
  
Meanwhile, Aomine’s momentary excitement has evaporated, and he just stares at the floor in frustration, clearly debating with himself about what he should do.  
  
Soft footsteps break the silence that has fallen over the room, and Imayoshi moves to stand behind Aomine, placing his face near the blue-haired boy’s ear.  
  
“You will be well taken care of,” he says, grinning slyly. “Can’t do much hunting down here, now can you?”  
  
Aomine closes his eyes, one of his eyebrows twitching slightly, before giving a low growl and throwing his arms in the air.  
  
“Fine. I’ll go. But only because I don’t want to spend another minute in this dump.”  
  
“Fantastic,” Mayuzumi says and is about to wave them out of the room, but he pauses, glancing at Imayoshi.  
  
“What if he runs?” he asks, curious.  
  
There’s the smile again, teeth showing and eyes opening ever so slightly.  
  
“He won’t.”  
  
Mayuzumi shudders, and Aomine winces, before turning quickly and heading for the door.  
  
“Come on!” he hollers back at his new captor. “Let’s get this over with.”  
  
Imayoshi takes a moment to nod politely at Mayuzumi and the cloaked figure still standing behind him.  
“Thank you for your time, gentlemen,” he says with a smirk, then turns and follows after his new acquisition.  
  
Once the guests are gone from the room, Mayuzumi gives a long exhale.  
  
“So you do this every day?” he asks, looking up at Akashi again. The red-haired god nods silently in response. “Damn,” Mayuzumi mutters, rolling his head until he hears a satisfying pop from his neck. He glances up and realizes Akashi is staring down at him intently, as if contemplating something important, but Mayuzumi doesn’t think he wants to ask what’s going through his head.  
  
“Imayoshi,” he says instead. “That was his name, right? He said something about having heard of me already. Does anyone else aside from you and Nijimura know I’m here?”  
  
Akashi stretches one hand idly, examining the fabric of his glove. “I have not spoken of it to anyone,” he says curtly.  
  
“Then how do they know?” Mayuzumi demands.  
  
Flexing his fingers, Akashi sighs. “There are some authorities in this world that know what we are all up to, regardless of our wishes,” he says, although still too cryptically for Mayuzumi’s liking. “I’m sure word has spread among the gods by now.”  
  
Mayuzumi thinks on this, then rises from the chair, realizing that he should probably be returning it to its rightful owner now that their little experiment has ended. “Are they going to object to this? Or are they all like you and Imayoshi?”  
  
“I don’t think they’ll mind,” Akashi says, settling into his seat, and as much as Mayuzumi tries, he can’t find any doubt in the way he says it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some things are gonna happen next chapter, hold onto your butts


	5. Standing on the Velvet Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long, it was uncooperative. But some things are happening?? And will continue to happen???

They settle into a routine.  
  
At some point, Mayuzumi wakes up. He doesn’t think of it as morning, not anymore; he can’t, when time is just one unbroken stream of shadows down here, and he doesn’t even know if the sun still rises above ground or if it’s all just as dead and dark up there as well.  
  
But he gets up, and he grabs the food that’s always there waiting for him and heads down to the river, where the dogs come to greet him, each face showing its enthusiasm in its own way. Sometimes he catches Nijimura on his way in with a fresh delivery, and they talk for a few minutes about this or that, maybe have a laugh over whatever pathetic story brought this new soul here; and then Nijimura leaves and he’s alone with the beast again, water whispering stories of so many lifetimes laid bare at his feet. He wonders if he stays here long enough, if he’ll come to understand this, too.  
  
He feels hunger after a while, so he returns to his room to find some sort of midday meal there, which he eats alone before joining Akashi in the throne room to entertain himself until dinner. Mostly he just watches Akashi work, but they switch sometimes, like they did with Imayoshi, with Mayuzumi taking the reigns and issuing verdicts for the odd case or two. The strangeness of it all occurs to him at some point; he’d always been a reader of stories, not a writer, and it’s new and intriguing to be put in a position to decide the fates of others. Sometimes Akashi resists, when he doesn’t like what Mayuzumi does, but little by little the complaints from him grow fewer, as do the number of traumatized, sobbing young ladies who have to come running back to them when their stories end in tragedy once again.  
  
They end their time together with dinner, and then Mayuzumi sleeps until his body tells him it’s time to get up again.  
  
He loses count of these “days” soon enough, and many things grow dimmer in his memories. He even forgets about the god that visited them to retrieve Aomine, and his cryptic comment about others in their circles being aware of Mayuzumi’s presence in the underworld. Akashi must have been right about their apathy, because it doesn’t look like anyone is coming down here to complain about it.  
  
Until a very tall, green-haired, serious-looking fellow and a shorter, raven-haired boy set foot in Akashi’s abode.  
  
As he could with Imayoshi, Mayuzumi can sense the difference in atmosphere from the moment they walk into the room. There is no fear as they hurry towards Akashi, almost businesslike in their swiftness. Mayuzumi is a little curious, because he’s never actually seen Akashi interact with the other gods before, aside from that little mess with Imayoshi.  
  
“Akashi!” The black-haired boy beams up at them through his bangs, waving one hand. “It’s been a while. How is the old underground domain?”  
  
His taller companion, meanwhile, doesn’t offer any kind of greeting, his mouth a firm line across his clearly unamused face.  
  
“Takao, we aren’t here for socializing,” he mutters, but the boy called Takao just rolls his eyes in response.  
  
“We can spare five minutes, Shin-chan” he insists. “You haven’t seen Akashi in forever either. And,” he pauses, sharp eyes snapping over to Mayuzumi’s face, “there is someone here we’re not acquainted with yet.”  
  
“Who won’t be here for much longer,” the “Shin-chan” says insistently, “so don’t get too attached to him.”  
  
“Hey!” Takao calls out, tilting his head in Mayuzumi’s direction. “You’re Mayuzumi, I assume. How are you liking it down here? How’s the food?”  
  
“That’s not even relevant, Takao, please,” Shin-chan says, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes.  
  
“Actually, Shin-chan, it kind of is,” Takao replies, his voice suddenly becoming both quieter and more serious.  
  
The green-haired giant seems to mull this over, and Mayuzumi isn’t sure if he should still be responding to the question, nor does he understand why this stranger is so curiously invested in his treatment here, but Akashi finally takes it upon himself to interrupt the duo’s exchange.  
  
“Midorima,” he says, gesturing to the taller boy, “I assume you two are here on business, so please, tell me what it is.”  
  
Midorima clears his throat and turns his gaze to Akashi with a pointed look. “Upon your father’s orders” - and Mayuzumi sees, out of the corner of his eye, the way Akashi’s fist clenches ever so slightly at the mention - “Mayuzumi is to be returned to the surface immediately.”  
  
Mayuzumi blinks. Then again, and again, as his brain processes the statement.  
  
“Thank fuck,” he says finally, exhaling, even though his mind is still reeling with confusion as to the details of exactly what in the hell is going on.  
  
His joy immediately simmers down, however, because Akashi has risen from his seat, eyes blazing in a way that spoke “danger” to Mayuzumi’s senses like nothing he’d seen out of the god before.  
  
“Why?”  
  
The question is quiet, but slices clearly through the dark room.  
  
Takao sighs and raises his arms defensively, as if trying to calm Akashi down. “Akashi, look, it’s more than you realize. You should’ve known better, honestly, but you didn’t just kidnap your run-of-the-mill mortal.”  
  
Mayuzumi finds himself blinking again. The explanation isn’t helping; he’s actually even more lost after Takao’s statement.  
  
“What?” he says, voicing his confusion.  
  
Takao turns to him, hesitating, eyes studying Mayuzumi’s features carefully. “And… he didn’t even know it, great, this is even better than we thought.”  
  
“What is that supposed to mean?” Akashi asks, the ice in his voice still deadly, but Midorima doesn’t seem intimidated and just shakes his head.  
  
“His mother,” he explains. “She’s not mortal, she’s a harvest goddess. None of us had seen her or heard from her in many years, and it seems she had settled into a quiet village with her son.”  
  
_Son_.  
  
Mayuzumi raises one hand and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I’m not,” he hesitates, looking down at their guests. “I’m not human?”  
  
“Partly, no,” Takao replies, looking sympathetic. “I am sorry you had to find out this way. I don’t think your mother wanted you to know.” He pauses, looking uncertain as to how much he should say. “I think she just wanted you to live normally and never have to get involved in any of this.”  
  
Mayuzumi snorts in response. Yeah, right. Not getting involved was an option that had been quickly disposed of by Akashi.  
  
_Don’t wander_.  
  
If only he’d listened to that warning from a different lifetime.  
  
It’s too late for that now, he thinks bitterly, but for reasons he still doesn’t fully understand, some kind of salvation seems to have appeared before him, even if it comes at the cost of this disorienting revelation. He starts to move towards the visitors, and decides to focus now on leaving; processing other life-changing information can be better handled once he’s back home.  
  
He really shouldn’t be surprised when he only makes it two steps forward and Akashi’s arm is immediately thrust out in front of him, blocking his path.  
  
“Wait,” he snaps, eyes narrowing at their guests. “Why is this relevant? Father never bothered with anything like this before with anyone else, even half-mortals, so why does this matter all of a sudden?”  
  
Takao shifts uncomfortably, gaze drifting around the room as if unsure where to look.  
  
“Akashi,” he says finally, his voice soft but audible. “She is a harvest goddess. Her only son has gone missing. She is currently beside herself with rage, and you can already see it in the crops, they’re starting to wilt. It’s been a fortnight already-”  
  
A fortnight. Mayuzumi’s mind spins, dazed by the information. Has he only been down here so long? It feels like an eternity to him, and he realizes that his sense of time is way more shot than he’d thought.  
  
“-and if this keeps up, all of the crops will wither, the harvest will not be coming in, and people are going to start dying very, very quickly.” Takao finally brings his eyes back up to meet Akashi’s. “People are going to suffer, and we’re not talking about a few. Your father is trying to prevent this damage before it happens.”  
  
Akashi frowns, looking disinterested. “Not my problem,” he says coolly, “what happens up there.”  
  
“It is your problem!” Midorima snaps. “Those deaths will be on you!”  
  
Mayuzumi can sense the conversation rapidly slipping from his control, Akashi’s arm still as unrelenting before him as the god’s determined demeanor, so he tries the only thing he can think of.  
  
“And if they die,” he says hastily, “that’s a whole hell of a lot of extra work for you, yes? Think of how many people are going to come through here at once.”  
  
Akashi’s arm drops after a moment, and Mayuzumi wonders if he’s succeeded, until the red-haired god turns towards him so very, very slowly, head downcast. He looks up at Mayuzumi finally, and there is emotion burning in those mismatched eyes that he’s never seen there before, something too raw and open, and he wonders if maybe for the sake of his own sanity it would have been better had he never seen it.  
  
“Do you really think,” Akashi asks, quiet and pained, “that I would think an extra work load on my shoulders too much effort in exchange for keeping you here?”  
  
_Yes_ , Mayuzumi wants to say. _Yes, you don’t want me here that badly, I’m not worth that effort_. He wants to say it, but he’s already stared into the fire too long and he’s lost his certainty that such a claim is true. But saying _no_ would acknowledge something that he doesn’t want to solidify so concretely, so instead he puts on the most impassive face he can and turns his eyes away, looking towards Takao and Midorima.  
  
“Do you want to go?” Akashi’s voice tempts him to look back towards the god, but he doesn’t.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Why? Because people will die if you don’t?”  
  
Mayuzumi senses the implication in the question, the second part that Akashi demands to know but doesn’t voice. _Because you feel obligated, or because you really want to leave here that badly?_  
  
“I want to go home,” is all Mayuzumi says, as firmly as he can manage.  
  
There is a quiet in the room, a collective held breath as everyone waits. Akashi’s arm drops with a faint rustle of fabric, and even in the stillness, his response comes so softly that Mayuzumi barely hears it.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
Midorima immediately sighs in relief, and Takao turns his eyes upwards in a gesture of gratitude.  
  
“Alright!” he says, motioning towards Mayuzumi. “Let’s get going.”  
  
“Tomorrow,” Akashi interrupts, before Mayuzumi can move. “He will leave, but not until tomorrow. This is my condition, and you will accept, or he will not go at all.”  
  
Midorima looks thoroughly exasperated at this and is obviously about to say something, but Takao lays a hand against his arm to stop him.  
  
“It’s fine,” he says, more to Midorima than to anyone else. “Akashi keeps his word. We can come back tomorrow.”  
  
While Midorima doesn’t look particularly pleased at this, he relents and nods in acknowledgement.  
  
“Tomorrow,” he says firmly, glaring directly at Akashi. “And there will be no further allowances.”  
  
Akashi nods his head and waves one arm lazily, and the duo take it as their cue to leave, Midorima still looking disgruntled and Takao hanging onto his arm as if trying to keep him calm on their way out.  
  
–  
  
Once their guests are gone, the remainder of the duties are carried out entirely by Akashi and with awkward silence hanging between the two of them. Mayuzumi finds himself following Akashi out of the throne room out of habit and it isn’t until several steps later that it occurs to him that maybe Akashi doesn’t want him around for dinner, given the circumstances.  
  
Naturally, in that creepy way of his, Akashi senses the question coming before Mayuzumi can ask.  
  
“You are welcome to join me for a parting dinner,” he says over his shoulder as they walk. “If you wish.”  
  
“Sure,” Mayuzumi mutters, and he really can’t fathom why he of all people is feeling guilty right now. He doesn’t owe this to Akashi (who dragged him down here by force, he reminds himself), but he feels obligated to do it in exchange for… what, exactly? Being kept hostage for weeks? Finding out in the most inopportune way that his existence is something else entirely from what he’d believed all his life?  
  
He’s irritated, but he’s damn hungry, and to be fair, Akashi’s food is quite good, so he tries to quell his annoyance and focus on nothing in particular while they settle down to eat.  
  
Dinner is also uncharacteristically quiet for them, but Mayuzumi’s head threatens to become a mess if he stops to think about anything coherently for even a moment, so he ignores that too and just focuses on shoving some sort of chicken dish into his mouth. It’s also new to him; somehow, Akashi never seems to run out of variety in their meals, even down here.  
  
Their dessert is in the form of an array of fruits, many of them sliced and arranged neatly on a plate. Most of them Mayuzumi recognizes, but there’s one in the center that is strange to him, something red and oddly crown-shaped on one side.  
  
“What’s this?” he asks, holding it up and breaking the evening’s silence for the first time.  
  
“A pomegranate,” Akashi replies, red eye trained on red fruit. “It is native to here. You’ve probably never seen it above ground.”  
  
“I haven’t,” Mayuzumi agrees, turning it over in his hand. “It looks regal,” he mutters to himself, but Akashi’s ears catch the statement and he chuckles quietly.  
  
“It’s quite good,” he says, eyes glinting strangely as Mayuzumi’s fingers play with the fruit. “You’ll have to cut it open yourself,” he adds. “One is meant to eat the seeds on the inside.”  
  
Mayuzumi immediately grabs a knife and carves into the fruit as best he can, although it’s a little awkward since he’s never eaten such a thing before. In the end, he manages to cut it in half, and sure enough, the inside reveals a bunch of small, bright red berries. He pulls one out and holds it close to examine it, rolling it between his fingers. It glows strangely red in the flickering firelight of the torches, a bit too reminiscent of a certain someone’s hair; but it’s just a fruit, he reminds himself, although having been raised in the underworld, who knows how much of Akashi’s spirit it absorbed.  
  
He realizes he’s thinking too much again, so he gives up and pops it into his mouth. Akashi is watching him closely as he chews, presumably to gauge his response to the flavor. It’s bitter at first, and for a brief instant he regrets eating it, but there is a sweetness that begins to take over after a few more moments, and in the end he decides that it’s actually pretty good.  
  
“Do you like it?” Akashi asks, eyes blazing, and Mayuzumi can’t tell anymore if it’s the fire reflected in them or something else entirely.  
  
“Yeah,” he admits, grabbing another seed. “It’s good.”  
  
The only response is a silent smile in the dark, and Mayuzumi cannot for the life of him figure out why he thinks it looks victorious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooow Akashi you ass


	6. Looking Backwards in the Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boring but necessary chapter zzz sorry

He sleeps more soundly than he’s slept in weeks, and it’s not until he’s halfway through his next breakfast that Mayuzumi suddenly remembers that this is not, in fact, another normal day in the underworld. For the first time since being dragged down here, he actually gets to leave this godsforsaken place and get back to his home.

 _Home_.

He stares at his eggs, the word echoing awkwardly in his mind. The place to which one is meant to return, he thinks. How will it look, after his time in Akashi’s domain? How can he live again among those people, knowing now that he is something else entirely? Not that he ever considered him and his interests much like most of them anyway, he reminds himself, trying to find some thread to which he can safely connect his newfound knowledge. And his mother had been doing it for as long as he remembers, somehow, seemingly capable of keeping her nonhuman existence submerged until it was forcibly awakened by her beloved son being taken from her.

His fork falls against the plate, the sound loud and grating in the dim room, and he gives up on eating anything else. Whatever happens back home, he’ll be free of this, at least, so he shoves his chair back and heads for the door, not even bothering with a final glance around the room that had been his home these past weeks.

After their last dinner, Akashi had made some vague comment about being “busy” the next morning, so Mayuzumi doesn’t expect him to be present for any parting words before he leaves. He doesn’t care, really, but there’s a part of him that wants to nag about how offended he is that Akashi couldn’t be assed to see him off. But Akashi is king of the underworld, and he has duties to attend to, while Mayuzumi is no one at all; that’s how it was supposed to be, and that’s how it should stay.

So he isn’t surprised to find the throne room lacking in a certain red-haired god when he arrives, but he is a little caught off guard to see that Takao is there already, waiting for him.

“Sorry,” he says, hurrying up to meet him. “I didn’t think you’d be here already. Not that I really have any sense of when it is, it’s not like anyone keeps me clued in to these things,” he huffs.

Takao just laughs, waving one hand dismissively. “It’s fine, I haven’t been here long. I assume we’re not waiting on Akashi for some reason, so we can head off, if you want.”

Mayuzumi just nods, and Takao smiles a little in response as the two of them start on their way, Takao taking the lead. They must be going to the river, Mayuzumi is fairly certain, and although he knows his way to there well enough by now, the black-haired god walks with enough ease and confidence that Mayuzumi doesn’t feel a need to contribute to the navigation.

“Where’s your friend?” he asks, once they’ve descended down the curved staircase leading to the riverbank. “The surly green one.”

Takao grins at the question, bright and genuine, and it looks eerie and foreign in this darkness.

“Shin-chan’s waiting above ground,” he replies, eyes twinkling happily. “He spends more than enough time here as it is, so he sent me down alone today to fetch you. We both came yesterday because we were afraid that Akashi might provide us with some difficulty.”

Mayuzumi rolls the statement around in his mind, frowning a little.

“But you said yesterday that he hadn’t seen Akashi in a long time?”

“No,” Takao adds, shaking his head, “he hadn’t.” He raises one hand beside him as they walk, wiggling his fingers slightly and watching them cut through the green light. “Shin-chan doesn’t come too deep into the underworld, usually. Not much further than the entrance, unless he really has to.”

“What does he do?”

There’s silence again, Takao’s eyes growing distant as he stares at the glow playing across his hand.

“Passage,” he says finally, gripping his trailing fingers shut and turning his attention back to Mayuzumi with a smile. “Crossroads. The spaces between.”

Takao doesn’t need to elaborate any further, because Mayuzumi gets it; mediating between the living and the dead clearly sounds like it could be a part of those duties.

“What about you?” he asks, the soft sounds of water beginning to greet them as they approach the river.

The black-haired god narrows his eyes a bit in thought. “Something like that, also,” he offers, tilting his head slightly. “But more of an errand boy.”

Mayuzumi isn’t as sure about what exactly that one is supposed to mean, but he leaves it, because Takao doesn’t seem too interested in elaborating further, and they walk in silence the rest of the way until they reach the shore.

Nijimura is waiting for them there with his boat, idly stroking Hayama beneath the chin while staring blankly out across the water. The dogs start at the sight of Mayuzumi and Takao materializing out of the mist, and Hayama looks especially disappointed at Mayuzumi.

“Oh, come on,” Mayuzumi mutters, trying to sound annoyed, but the dog’s face is so pitiful indeed that he can’t help but reach out to pat it lightly on the head. Nebuya is chewing on something even more forcefully than usual, and even Mibuchi looks a bit like he’s trying to hide some sort of discomfort behind a particularly ferocious glare. Mayuzumi gives them all a quick pat in turn, then gestures towards the boat. “We’re all in here?”

Nijimura just nods once, expression neutral, and doesn’t even look at Mayuzumi as the three of them climb in and arrange themselves.

Mayuzumi is fairly certain that the passage across the river is the most silent thing he’s ever experienced in his life.

–

Nijimura leaves them on the far bank without a word, where a young boy – can’t be older than ten, and Mayuzumi wonders what brought him here so young – is already waiting to take their place in the boat once they disembark.

He follows more closely behind Takao now, because this territory is unfamiliar to him, and soon enough they’re climbing what seems to be a long, narrow staircase tunneled into the rock. Images flash across his mind; a girl, crying, running alone through the darkness.

_Ah_. 

He remembers, and he looks ahead at Takao’s back, trying to imagine what it must have been like, climbing behind her beloved like that, holding tightly to one thin, frail thread of hope, only to have it snatched away at the last minute. Akashi might as well have just said no from the start, if he was going to play things like that.

Mayuzumi doesn’t even realize he’s said anything that might  be  interpreted as commentary on Akashi’s fucked up personality out loud until Takao turns and looks over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised in inquiry.

“Wow,” he says, trying to suppress a smile. “You know, he isn’t _that_ bad.”

Mayuzumi stares.

“You’re right,” he says finally, tone completely flat. “A perfectly reasonable creature, that one.”

Takao’s smile turns into a chuckle, and he turns his face back towards the ascent.

“Look, no one’s perfect,” he says. “And Akashi is… a little less perfect than some people, in certain ways. In whatever kind of defense it may be, he never leaves his domain down here, if he can help it. He doesn’t know how to… do things, with other people, very well. And I know that this was really rough on you, but in his own way, I’m sure Akashi is sad to see you go.”

Mayuzumi runs one finger along the wall as they climb, watching it  remove some of the dirt.

“He’ll be fine,” he says, pulling his finger away. “I’m sure within a week he’ll have kidnapped some other unfortunate soul for company.”

Takao hums. “I doubt that. He’d never taken anyone, before you, you know.”

Mayuzumi’s breath catches a little.

“What are you talking about? When you came with Midorima the first time, he said there had been others.”

“Not _his_ ,” Takao explains. “The other gods’. They do this… surprisingly frequently.”

“Well that I can believe,” Mayuzumi snorts. Takao’s head bobs once in acknowledgement, and Mayuzumi takes advantage of the pause to glance down at his hand, brushing away the dirt that he’d scraped off of the wall.

When he looks up again at Takao’s back, whatever thought he was thinking of verbalizing dissipates immediately, because instead of cool, brown darkness ahead of them, there is very suddenly a bright, square opening, large enough for a person to easily fit through, where only a second ago he can swear there was absolutely no such thing.

Takao exits first, his step not faltering in the least in the presence of whatever trick had just transpired before them, and Mayuzumi follows.

–

The first thing that Mayuzumi thinks as he emerges above ground is that everything is much too bright, the daylight fire against his retinas. He finds himself squinting, his chest constricting, and before he can process anything fully he’s falling to his knees as a sudden wave of nausea hits him. He covers his face with both hands, groaning against his palms, and tries to focus on keeping his breathing calm even as his pulse pounds violently in his ears.

The world spins threateningly around him, and for one brief moment he thinks that he really is about to vomit, until he feels a warmth on his back which he identifies as a hand. He directs his attention to that, and loses count of the seconds as he crouches there, motionless. Finally, the dizzying spinning slows and vanishes, and although something still pounds dimly in the back of his mind, he dares to drop his hands from his face and look up.

Takao stares down at him, cool eyes focused intently on Mayuzumi’s face.

“Just breathe,” he offers. “It may take a little while.”

“It’s the transition,” another voice says, and Mayuzumi looks around slowly until he spots Midorima, waiting for them as promised. He stands a few feet away, observing Mayuzumi carefully but with a certain detachment. “You may be only half human, but passage like that does not come so easily to everyone.”

“Why,” Mayuzumi grimaces, trying to force his tongue to speak. “Why don’t I remember feeling like this after going down there?”

Takao looks sympathetic, but there is amusement in his voice as he answers. “Well, it’s not really meant to be a two-way passage, now is it?”

Of course, Mayuzumi should have thought of that fact immediately, but his pounding head is impairing any particularly coherent reasoning, so he just nods once at Takao in response. The black-haired god rises, helping Mayuzumi to his feet alongside him, and with his breathing steady, Mayuzumi glances around to get his bearings. They’re in a forest, somewhere, green bushes surrounding them on all sides, and the light which he thought was so untolerably bright isn’t even the full onslaught of the sun; it filters down through the canopy overhead, only part of it reaching them where they stand. He frowns, concerned at how he might respond to the bare sun in its full potency if he can’t even handle this right now, but Takao seems to sense his worry and pats him lightly on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he says reassuringly. “We’ll be traveling through the forest for a while. You won’t have to adjust to proper daylight just yet.”

“Great,” Mayuzumi says weakly.

“Come on,” Midorima sighs. “The road isn’t far from here.”

They set off towards the road, and Mayuzumi glances back, suddenly remembering that they just climbed a long flight of stairs leading up from the underworld, mildly curious to see what the entrance looks like from this side of things. But he sees only undergrowth so dense that he can’t even imagine how a person could manage to pass through any of it, let alone any sort of visible opening in the ground that might suggest an entrance of any kind. Confused, he turns back to Midorima and Takao and forces the question to the back of his mind, one more unnecessary detail in a world that’s not his to worry about anymore.

The road is wide enough for the three of them, but they set off single file, with Midorima leading the way and Takao trailing behind Mayuzumi. He has absolutely no idea where they are, so he says nothing, letting the gods navigate silently and trying to ignore the faint headache that still lingers from his exposure to the daylight.

As they walk, it begins to dawn on Mayuzumi that his sense of disorientation is coming from more than just his cluelessless about their location. The air itself feels foreign to him, and he’s overly conscious of every small breath of wind against his too-sensitive skin. He shivers as they walk, even though the sky is bright through the trees above and the sun is what he once would have called warm and welcoming. The ground, too, feels strange beneath him, and as he focuses on the sensation of his footsteps on the earth, he’s momentarily struck with the sudden fear that it won’t hold, images of the ground crumbling beneath his feet flashing widlly through his mind, and somewhere, behind all of it, red and golden eyes flicker in the dark.

He presses his fingers to his temples, feeling the pulse through his skin and trying to breathe the pictures out of his mind. He doesn’t bother saying anything to Midorima or Takao, since he suspects there isn’t anything they can do about it, so he suppresses it as best he can and focuses on the walk.

–

It feels like only a few hours, but he begins to gain some sense of orientation, finally; they’re in the woods south of his village, and he knows the path home quite well from here on out. It’s grown darker since they came above ground, and with the sun’s light beginning to fail, the forest takes on a dark, burning orange glow. His eyes try to focus on Midorima in front of him, but the god looks strange in a way that Mayuzumi can’t put his finger on. There’s a dimness to his figure, sure, but oddly enough Mayuzumi finds that his overall presence seems to be intensifying with the sunset.

_The spaces between_. 

He recognizes the moment that the sun slips below the horizon with startling precision in spite of his inability to see it through the forest, because Midorima’s strange aura suddenly vanishes, and Mayuzumi finds himself exhaling deeply.

They reach the edge of the woods, and Mayuzumi’s escorts stop, his own feet slowing to a halt a few paces in front of them.

“This is as far as we’ll go,” Takao says, while Midorima eyes the darkening sky. “We thought it best to bring you here at nightfall, so hopefully you can make your way home without getting waylaid too much.”

Mayuzumi just nods once, feeling strangely numb. It’s nighttime already; his departure from Akashi feels like it happened not so very long ago. It’s going to take a while before he can fully trust his senses again in the overworld, he suspects, but his brain is too disoriented to even be angry properly, so he just sighs and waves dismissively at his guides.

“Thanks,” he mutters. “To both of you.”

“Sure,” Takao replies, while Midorima nods once. “Anytime. Although, you know, hopefully this will be the only one.”

“Yeah,” Mayuzumi says thoughtfully, and his eyes drift idly over the landscape, though focused somewhere else entirely. “Hopefully.”

He shrugs, then, and sets off towards the village, whose outskirts he can already see. He doesn’t know how long Takao and Midorima wait for him, and he doesn’t bother looking back to find out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Midorima is Hecate, interpretation based mostly on her identification as the liminal goddess, and Takao is Hermes, for those who are curious. Both play some role in the Persephone story (depending on what version you read), although of course I've taken many liberties here, as with the story itself.


	7. The Walls Swim Cold Electric

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Mayu is an angry, confused teenager and 1000% done with everyone’s everything
> 
> (sorry for the long wait... life is hectic and also this chapter was a pain in the ass)

Mayuzumi knows it’s petty, but he doesn’t even bother knocking when he shows up on his mother’s doorstep after nightfall. He wants to go straight back to his own place – assuming it’s even still his, and not someone else’s by now – and pass out in his bed for the next week. But he knows he has to get this over with, and decides that maybe now is better than later, so he barges straight through the front door and leaves it wide open, the darkness outside framing his pale features and silver hair.  
  
His mother, who seems to have been cleaning up her kitchen after dinner, hastily stifles the scream that begins to spring from her throat at the sudden sight of an intruder, the sound dissolving into a gasp of recognition.  
  
“Chihiro!”  
  
_Chihiro_.  
  
Mayuzumi’s head throbs at the sound, the echoes in his mind clashing with his mother’s voice, and he grimaces even as she approaches and places her hands against his cheeks.  
  
“They brought you home,” she whispers, eyes watering, and Mayuzumi shrugs one shoulder in response.  
  
“Yes, they did. And they told me what was going on. I know what you are, and I know what all of this is, so thanks for sending me the memo.”  
  
He stares down at her, his gaze flat but unwavering, and he watches her face grow pale in response to his words, the hands cupping his features sliding slowly away from him.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she says, soft but emphatic. “I’m so sorry. I just wanted you to be happy, I didn’t want you to ever have to get involved with any of them.”  
  
“Yeah,” Mayuzumi sighs. “I appreciate that sentiment. But I would've appreciated the truth right from the start even more.”  
  
His mother’s mouth tightens into a thin frown, and she crosses her arms defensively in front of her. “I didn’t know what you would do if I told you such a thing!”  
  
“Oh, gods, what would I have done? Run off to go on adventures with them?”  
  
She doesn’t say anything in response, but the tension in the corners of her eyes is all Mayuzumi needs for comprehension to finally fill his mind.  
  
“That’s it,” he whispers, his tone taking on a mix of awe and irritation. “That’s exactly what it is. You thought that I would leave, that I would go seek them out instead and leave you all by yourself and so you thought you could keep everything _safe_ and _close_ if you just kept this from me.”  
  
“That’s not –”  
  
“Oh don’t lie _again!_ ” Mayuzumi says, exasperated. “Haven’t you done enough of that already?”  
  
“I was trying to protect you!”  
  
“Fantastic job of that,” he says icily, and some petulant part of him is pleased with the way her expression looks pained in response. “Really, though, what would you do,” he continues, “if you woke up tomorrow and I was gone again? If I’d left all on my own, to find Takao, or maybe Midorima, to see what they’re doing, to see what kind of terrifying god-drama I can get myself involved in again?”  
  
“You wouldn’t,” she responds, and he can sense the way she forces the certainty into her voice.  
  
“Maybe I would,” he shrugs. “What then? Maybe you could threaten the crops again. Keep everyone here starving until I finally cave and come back to you out of guilt. Is that how things would go?”  
  
“Chihiro!”  
  
He just laughs, then, but it cracks strangely from all of the weariness and stress that he exhales along with it. “Fuck this.” He turns away from her to leave, but pauses in the doorway, eyes narrowing. “Don’t worry, I won’t be gone in the morning,” he adds dryly, glancing over his shoulder. “Still a bit tired from my last escapade, so don’t go freezing up the crops just yet.”  
  
The angry tears forming in the corners of his mother’s eyes don’t escape his notice even as he slams the door shut behind him.  
  
–  
  
The house, as it turns out, is still his, lying quiet and untouched at the outskirts of the village. His mother had raised him in her own home, and she’d always liked to be in the center of things, but he’d moved away to the village’s outer limits as soon as he’d had the opportunity to do so.  
  
He shoves the door open – no one bothers with locking anything around here – and stops at the threshold, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. It seems to take less time than he remembers, waiting on his vision to acclimate to the lack of light, but he carefully pushes that thought aside and frowns as he surveys his surroundings.  
  
Everything is undisturbed and, he would like to say, as he remembers it, but he finds now that the longer he stares at the objects strewn around the room, the more alien they look to his eyes, like vague shapes hiding in the shadows that he can’t quite recognize. He can feel the dust everywhere, even if he can’t see it, and he coughs, thinking with annoyance at the fact that he’s going to have to clean all of this up if he hopes to make it habitable again.  
  
_Home, sweet home_ , he thinks, and drags one hand across his tired features before setting about in search of a lamp and a broom.  
  
–  
  
He hides out in his house for several days as much as he possibly can, straightening things out until he finally isn’t choking every time he opens a door or picks up a stray object from the nearest table, going outside only to address the necessity of food. The villagers seem to accept his return without much question, and he finds out after a few conversations that his mother had simply told everyone that he was traveling. The truth of his kidnapping seemed to remain a secret, and from the fact that the villagers’ relationship with his mother appeared untouched, he could guess that her true status and her role in returning him were also unknown to them.  
  
He steadfastly avoids her, too, refusing to so much as meet her eyes ever since their last conversation following his return to the village. It’s unavoidable that he still sees her sometimes, at a distance, on the rare occasions that he has to venture outside, and there’s a sort of bitterness that settles in his gut when he catches sight of her speaking innocently with one of the villagers.  
  
_She tried to starve you, you know_ , he wants to call out to them, but he keeps his mouth shut for what is arguably his own comfort, because if anyone finds out anything, it’s not just his mother that will suffer for it.  
  
So he keeps to himself, and the schedule and rhythm of his life return to something that seems like normal. He finds that he has a hard time recalling with any vivid certainty exactly what things were like, _before Akashi_ , like looking at a painting that’s been doused in water, the ideas still discernible but the lines and colors blurring together into an unidentifiable mess. But the vague pictures are all he has, so he tries, as best he can, to arrange the things around him into some semblance of that image.  
  
If there is a difference in how he moves, in how his eyes catch the light when he wanders through the afternoon sun, either the villagers don’t notice, or they don’t care, because they keep him at the same arm’s length as they always did, and Mayuzumi is grateful for the distance. He didn’t keep any close friends here, and most of his acquaintances were only ever casual, but there is one person with whom he spoke more often than the others, and he finds himself running into him with increasing frequency since his return. They were always on good terms before, with that strange sort of bond that forms between two people who never share anything too personal and yet seem to understand perfectly what hides in the tilt of the other’s head when they offer a brief “hello” in passing.  
  
It’s after about a dozen of these run-ins that Mayuzumi one day finds himself wandering into the blacksmith’s forge uninvited and settling against a bench with book in hand.  
  
“Why yes, Mayuzumi, you may come in, thank you for asking,” the dark-haired man snorts, not even looking up from where he’s hammering intently at a chunk of metal.  
  
“Shut up, Kasamatsu, it’s too hot outside,” Mayuzumi complains, flipping through the book to find his page again.  
  
Kasamatsu raises one eyebrow. “You are in a forge. It is hot _inside_.”  
  
The response doesn’t faze Mayuzumi, who seems to finally have found the page he wanted. “It’s the _sun_ ,” he elaborates. “It’s too much.”  
  
Kasamatsu frowns, unconvinced, but decides to drop it and get back to work. It’s not even a lie, but Mayuzumi doesn’t want to explain that the brightness of the daylight still gives him headaches sometimes, sharp and without warning, and when he doesn’t feel like sitting alone in the eerie melted painting of a house that used to be his, he doesn’t find himself with many options. So he goes to Kasamatsu’s sometimes, on the days when his mind feels even more jumbled than usual, the path to the forge now familiar under his feet. They speak sometimes of mundane things, Kasamatsu bitching about a customer or Mayuzumi rattling on about a book, and Mayuzumi prays that Kasamatsu doesn’t read more into the silent gaps in conversation than he does into their words.  
  
–  
  
“What are they like?” Kasamatsu asks one afternoon, hours after their previous conversation had died out, voice suddenly breaking through the quiet.  
  
“Who?”  
  
“Whoever the fuck you’re pining over.”  
  
“Wow, I’m not pining,” Mayuzumi snorts, but he tosses his book onto a nearby table and runs a hand through his hair.  
  
Kasamatsu rolls his eyes. “Okay. The person you’re definitely not pining over, then. Whoever you met while you were away that must have made your life a living hell or whatever. Describe them to me.”  
  
“He’s an ass.”  
  
“Mmm,” Kasamatsu hums, adjusting his grip on his tongs, “that could mean absolutely anyone, coming from you.”  
  
“He’s an arrogant, spoiled little shit who doesn’t seem to understand that he can’t have everything he wants,” Mayuzumi offers in way of elaboration.  
  
“Wonderful personality, got it. What’s he look like?”  
  
Mayuzumi is thankful that Kasamatsu has his gaze fixed rather intently on his hammering at that moment and misses the way his friend’s eyes flicker briefly around the room.  
  
“He looks okay,” he says finally, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling.  
  
“So you think he’s really hot,” Kasamatsu translates without glancing up from his work.  
  
Mayuzumi doesn’t turn his head to look at him, but he does raise his hand in an obscene gesture in Kasamatsu’s direction, earning a snort from the blacksmith in response.  
  
“So,” Kasamatsu continues after a few moments of silence, “why don’t you go see him? Not that you miss him or anything,” he adds flatly.  
  
Mayuzumi remains silent in response, and Kasamatsu wipes his forehead against his sleeve, squinting patiently at the piece of metal that he’s working.  
  
“It’s far,” he says finally. “It wasn’t an easy trip to make.” He shifts in his seat, turning to look at the blacksmith for the first time since he instigated the conversation. “What’s it matter to you, anyway? You don’t usually prod like this.”  
  
Kasamatsu’s voice comes quiet, but the syllables fall against Mayuzumi’s ears as heavily as the sounds of hammer on metal. “Because you didn’t used to look so distant.” He pauses and stares up at Mayuzumi, blue eyes glowing hot like the metal in front of him, his dark brows furrowed. “Some days it feels like you never really came back after all.”  
  
Everything halts for a moment, breathing and sound alike, and Mayuzumi looks down to see the whiteness of his knuckles where he’s gripping the bench beneath him. He hisses and stands up with a start, covering the length of the room in a few long strides before disappearing outside into the afternoon sun.  
  
–  
  
He drags his hands along his furniture when he gets home later that day, as if the texture of it beneath his skin might help remind him; _table, shelf, chair_.  
  
There’s red in the corners of his vision, no matter where he directs it, and he throws the chair sideways in a flurry of annoyance.  
  
_Sad_.  
  
He’s never once bothered himself with wondering about what Akashi might be up to since Mayuzumi left, and he tells himself that his lack of interest is definitely because he doesn’t care what Akashi is up to. And it is definitely, absolutely not because of fear that he forces his mind to remain disinterested, because wondering about Akashi’s condition might lead him to wonder if Akashi might actually be lonely, which is of absolutely no concern to him.  
  
_To see you go_.  
  
–  
  
“This is better,” Kasamatsu murmurs, head turned sideways and face buried in the grass. They’re lounging in a field behind his house, and Mayuzumi is glad that today is not one of those days where the rays of the sun make him feel like his organs are on fire, because he’s able to throw himself down into the grass and enjoy the afternoon warmth, too.  
  
He didn’t feel like working today, Kasamatsu had explained, and offered to go out for a walk at some distance from the village. He must have noticed the way Mayuzumi’s shoulders tensed at the thought, because he’d quickly retracted the idea, suggesting instead that hanging out near Kasamatsu’s own place was good enough.  
  
Mayuzumi is considering just caving in and taking a nap, when Kasamatsu prods him again with a question, words jabbing into Mayuzumi’s side like a pitchfork.  
  
“How long has it been now?”  
  
“Six months,” Mayuzumi says quietly. “Exactly, today.”  
  
“That’s a while.” Kasamatsu doesn’t ask explicitly, but Mayuzumi detects the inquiry, too.  
  
He sighs, trailing his long limbs experimentally through the grass. “I’m just tired of being dragged around on other people’s leashes.”  
  
He thinks of his mother and the silence she kept throughout his lifetime, and already he feels the faint pulse of a headache coming on.  
  
“I’ll see him again.” His eyes open to stare up at the clear afternoon sky, an empty, solid blue as far as he can see. “But I need it to be on my terms, and not his.”  
  
Kasamatsu is still lying on his back with his eyes shut, and although he says nothing more, Mayuzumi can feel the acknowledgement in the air between them. The conversation seemingly finished, he settles back into the grass, mimicking the way Kasamatsu has sprawled himself out, and with his eyes closed and the sun warm against his face, he feels that he’ll be asleep soon enough.  
  
It’s in that strange moment of half-consciousness, the odd in-between space before he finally falls completely asleep but after the more reasonable parts of his brain have started shutting off, that his mind makes its first attempt to alert him that something is wrong. Something is hot, and a disjointed series of images of fire and sun and ash flicker in rapid succession behind his closed eyelids. Part of him tries to shake him awake, to tell him that he’s being smothered, smoke in his lungs and the earth a crushing weight against his chest, whereas the other half grasps desperately at the sleep that had almost but not quite claimed him.  
  
And then the warmth takes form, and nausea bubbles up from the pit of his stomach until he finds himself sitting upright in the grass, his hands trembling wildly, one clutching his chest and the other reaching up to grab his suddenly pounding head.  
  
It’s like a stampede inside his skull, a madness of throbbing and heat, and slowly the world around him starts diminishing, his vision narrowing like a page burning in from the edges. The last thing he recognizes before the image crumbles entirely to ashes is Kasamatsu’s hands grabbing frantically at his back.  
  
–  
  
He’s covered in sweat when he wakes up, but beyond that the air and colors around him are a blur. Someone’s hand is on his forehead, painfully cold against his skin, and he hisses and tries to roll away like a burned animal. But there must be someone else, because the movement is cut short by a firm grip that shoves him back against the ground.  
  
“This fever is unbelievable.”  
  
The voices too are a confused blur in his ears, and he can’t identify the speakers although the sounds tug sharply at the borders of his memory.  
  
“How long has he been like this?”  
  
“Only a few minutes.”  
  
“Have you seen anything like this in the time he’s been back?”  
  
“No, this was the first time.”  
  
“Mayuzumi.”  
  
He groans. The sound is being directed at him now, and he struggles desperately to focus his attention on it.  
  
“Mayuzumi.”  
  
Blinking frantically, he tries to sharpen the blur of color above him, but in spite of his efforts, he can’t.  
  
“Look, if you can hear us, try to answer me. When you were with Akashi, did you eat anything you didn’t recognize? Maybe something strange you’d never seen before?”  
  
Eating. Stomach. Pain. His thoughts scramble erratically, trying to find the answer.  
  
“Pomegranate?”  
  
Mayuzumi’s brain throbs with confusion at the noise, because he hears someone with his own voice answering the question, even though he’s sure he didn’t open his mouth to speak.  
  
“We have to go. Now.”  
  
“I’ll take him.”  
  
“You’re not going by yourself.”  
  
“Like hell you’re coming with me, I travel faster.”  
  
“You’re carrying someone else with you!”  
  
“We don’t have time for this!”  
  
“Where are you taking him?”  
  
“Back to –”  
  
“Takao, don’t!”  
  
“Ahhh!”  
  
Mayuzumi can’t contain the scream, because his body is being shifted and a bolt of pain suddenly shoots through spine. Dimly, he hears the yelling around him intensify, and then everything goes mercifully black again.


End file.
